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Again today
I went to bed as the sun rose.
The creeping blue-grey dawn
signalled to me
it was time to sleep.

My sleep does not come easily though
and many a night,
I sit through the dark hours
waiting for that dawn to come.

Should I worry that my sleep
comes only as dawn breaks?

I don’t mind;
the night holds no fear for me
in fact, I relish those dark hours,
the solitude,
when all is silent,
when all is calm.

And when I do sleep,
it is fitful and fraught,
just a few fretful hours
embellished by strange visions.

And on waking,
I am not always refreshed
but the days are long enough
for a few more hours
of fretful rest
before the sun sets
and I can again enjoy
the dark hours
in my solitude.
I am a Nyctophile.
I love the night, the darkness:
it gives me pleasure,
it gives me comfort,
it gives me peace.

In the night hours
I can hear the soft rustling of the trees,
the trilling of insects,
the gentle pad of the cat,
the bark of the fox,
the scurrying of the hedgehog
as they go about their night-time adventures.

In the night hours
I can see the the stars
glimmering above
and when the moon is risen,
I can bask in her soft, silver glow.

In the night hours
I can smell the cool air
and taste the new-formed dew.

In the night hours
all that is familiar
takes on a new persona
in the shadows.

And what secrets
hide in those shadows?

They do not bring me fear
but curiosity …

In the quiet of the night,
my thoughts are mine,
uninterrupted and unencumbered
by the noises of the day;
the clamour of voices,
the roar of the traffic,
the cacophony of daily life.

I love the night, the darkness,
it gives me pleasure,
it gives me comfort,
it gives me peace.

© 2025
Cryptic Dec 2018
I'm in a four corner room
Lying,
All I can see is a light from my phone
and the rest is nothing
Wondering and thinking
a thoughts and things
that are slowly killing me

— The End —